


To be Weak is Not to Sin

by HappyLunatic



Category: Far Cry (Video Games), Far Cry 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Child Abuse, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, I don't know what this is but it's something, John is a good man, Self-Doubt, Self-Harm, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2019-04-17 12:21:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14188863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HappyLunatic/pseuds/HappyLunatic
Summary: John was weak, is weak, and will always be weak.But, like moths to a flame, both angels and demons flock to weakness.





	1. John

**Author's Note:**

> A few hours into a streamer's Far Cry 5 playthrough, John shows up, I see his eyes, and plot bunnies were born.  
> Rather fitting for Easter Monday ;)

John has always felt out of place in Eden’s Gate. He is the youngest - a twelve-year gap between him and Joseph - and the weakest, the runt of the family. Whilst charisma and dominance came to his elder brothers naturally, John struggles with both. Even their adoptive sisters- Faiths - became more part of the Seed family than he ever was, is, and will be. 

 

John is weak, so when his family told him to beat up smaller classmates and take their money, he said the only word he believed to be righteous.

“No.” 

That day, the word “Sloth” was carved into his chest.

 

John is weak, so he let his parents drag him into the kitchen and beat him half dead until he said the only word he should have said. 

“Yes.”

That day, his father smiled at him for the first time and called him a good boy.

 

John is weak, so when Joseph asked him to join his Project at Eden’s Gate some decades later, John said the only word he could when it came to his family.

“Yes.”

That day, they took his compassion and turned it into apathetic cruelty in the name of mercy.


	2. The Angel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Angel arrives

She came to them as an Angel of the Lord descended from Heaven. She had taken Joseph’s hands, held them lovingly in her own, and smiled at God’s Chosen.

“Hello, Father.”

Joseph was enamoured with the Angel. Everyone was.

She was the most beautiful thing John had ever seen. Even in her human disguise, she shone. Her eyes filled with so much love and adoration held towards all that meets her gaze. John wanted to cry because surely something so pure would not grace a tainted world of filth. John wanted to shout, to tell the Angel to leave before their sins burn her to ash. John wanted the Angel to love him like how she loved Joseph.

But John is weak, so he said nothing.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If it wasn't made clear, know that the Angel is the Female Deputy


	3. The Vessel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Angel seeks her Chosen

The Angel said she came to find her Vessel, her Muse. Everyone wanted to be her Chosen, but no one was deluded of their worth. They all knew there was only one family worthy of her Love, a family in which John never truly belonged.

Nonetheless, the Angel wanted to see all, hear all, know all, and John was a part of that all.

She went with Joseph first, and while Joseph had offered his guardianship to the Angel for the rest of her journey, she had refused.

“I cannot accept, Father,” The Angel sang, “for your light is needed elsewhere, and I cannot allow myself to be what leads you away from duties that He intends.”

Onwards the Angel went in the absence of the Father. First to Whitetail Mountains for Jacob, then to the Henbane River for Faith.

Then, she came to Holland Valley for John.

Dressed in silver white, the Angel descended from the sky as she had descended from Heaven that fateful day. She took John’s hand in hers as she did with Joseph and smiled lovingly at John as she had at Joseph.

“Hello, John.”

And John was lost.


	4. The Cleansing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "To be weak is not to sin"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Switching to present tense for the moments shared between John and the Angel.

The first thing the Angel asks for is to observe the Cleansing. 

No one denies the Angel, especially not someone like John, and so he says “Yes”.

John leads the Angel to the clearing by the water, where two Sinners await atonement. Hands on the Eden’s Gate Bible, John runs through the far-too-familiar rituals of baptism. He is reaching for the knife to carve “Greed” into the first Sinner when the Angel lays a hand on his arm.

“John.” The Angel sings, chastisement in her voice. A frown marring her skin.

John feels shame wash over his being. The first thing the Angel asks for, and somehow he has managed to disappoint her. John looks down, self-disgust filling his lungs. Surely the others, surely Joseph, in all their perfection, would have only made the Angel smile.

“John.” The Angel sings again, softer this time. A hand grasps his chin, gentle and warm, and tilts until her eyes lock upon his.

John sees Heaven hidden amongst the pale expanse. John sees her Grace in the golden speckles. John sees himself mirrored on the watery obsidian. He is a stain on her image. He is not worthy. He is weak.

“John.”

He must have said something out loud, for sadness encroaches the Angel, and she says, voice full of conviction and certainty, “to be weak is not to sin.”

And John cries.

The Angel holds him as the sky starts to rumble. Rain drenches her hair, but still, she holds him. Mud splatters onto her dress, but still, she holds him. Cold wind whips against her bare skin, but still, she holds him.

The Angel runs her hand through his hair and lays kissed upon his forehead. She sings for him and John allows himself this display of weakness. He cries until he can cry no more; until darkness is all there is left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor John :<


	5. The Baptist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Birth of the Baptist

The first Cleansing of Eden’s Gate is when Joseph names John the Baptist:

“She refuses to abide by our purpose. She is purposeless; slothful.” Joseph condemns as he turns towards John, a glint in his eyes. John does not like what that glint implies.

“John.” Joseph smiles, “She bears the same sin as you. It is only fitting that you be the one to Baptize her, no?”

John says the only thing he knows, “Yes,” and Joseph hands him the knife.

The girl is small, made even smaller as she huddles around herself, trying to disappear into the ground. The girl is young, no older than a decade, and when John looks down, he doesn’t see the sniffling girl. He sees himself.

 _Disgusting._ The voices whisper in his ear and John takes a step closer.

 _Weak._ John grabs the girl and holds her down when she struggles.

 _Just like you_ were, _like you are now._ John cuts open her jacket, knife pointed at her collar.

 _Do it, John. Make her see her sins like how they made you see yours._ John digs the knife into her flesh and the girl screams.

 

_**S** _

“You piece of shit!” Father screams, his cane coming down hard on John’s back. “You useless.” _Smack._ “Piece.” _Smack._ “Of shit!” _Smack_.

 

_**L** _

“Get away from me!” Mother shouts, her nails raking across John’s arms. “Disgusting!” _Slash._ “You’re devil spawn!” _Slash._ “Should have killed you when I had the chance!” _Slash._

 

_**O** _

“Hmph.” Jacob sneers, his finger jabbing into John’s chest. “You’re a waste of space.” _Jab._ “Pathetic.” _Jab._ “Don’t know why we bother keeping you around.” _Jab._

 

_**T** _

“You are weak,” Joseph says, his words and disappointment hurt more than the smacks of Father’s cane, more than the slashes of Mother’s nails, more than the jabs of Jacob’s sneer. Joseph says no more, but John sees his brother’s eyes and they scream, “Sinner.”

 

_**H** _

“Useless,” John mutters, knife against his legs. “Disgusting.” _Slice._ “Waste of space.” _Slice._ “Weak.” _Slice._

 

“Sinner.” They whisper and John screams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor poor John :<


	6. Helel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Angel has a name

John startles awake, cold sweat dripping down his back as he sits up and takes in his surroundings. 

Unfamiliar sensations bombard John’s senses. A lit hearth-fire sits in the center of the room, recently attended to. That would explain the warmth cradling his body despite the coldness burning his insides courtesy that dream. A fresh sweetness invades John’s senses and he looks around the room to find irises and forget-me-nots lining windowsills. Faith and hope, John realizes before shaking his head to banish those thoughts he was ostracized for.

Where is this? John thinks as the fog inside his mind starts to clear. He didn’t know any place in Eden’s Gate that made him feel safe like this little haven he’s woken up in. He can’t help but feel he doesn’t belong here, that he’s intruding someone else’s Garden of Eden so to speak.

John tries to stand but blinding pain hammers inside his head and he reaches for the bedpost to steady himself. Instead of cold metal or biting wood, his hand meets warm softness and a faint thumping caresses his thumb. 

Ivory white flows into John’s vision and suddenly the Angel is kneeling in front of him, happiness and concern warring in her eyes. 

Shit. John stops breathing. Shit. Shit. Shit. He’s holding the Angel’s wrist and the Angel is there, kneeling, so close, and John remembers her holding him, kissing his forehead, and he desperately wants to reach out and run his hand through her dark silky locks and - 

“John.” The Angel sings, and John is shaken out of his reverie.

John does not dare look up, afraid that the Angel had somehow seen into his debauched mind. He doesn’t want to see the anger, the revulsion, the disdain and, heavens forbid, the disappointment. But John has lived long enough to know what he wants is never what life is willing to give him, and so when the Angel asks him to look up, John obeys -

-and finds neither anger nor loathing; neither disdain nor disappointment. Instead, the same happiness and concern with which the Angel graced John when he first woke still shines in her eyes along with something else that resembles fondness.

“I was so worried when you lost consciousness.” The Angel sings, concern boiling over. “I was trying to help but it appears that I’ve forgotten how fragile the human body can be.”

Weak. The voices mutter.

The Angel seems to sense John’s pain, as she hurriedly explains, “Father did not anticipate the intensity of the human soul when he made vessels for mankind.” A look of utter conviction slides onto her visage, “even He has flaws. Do you understand, John?”

John does understand and he parrots the Angel's words from the night before, “To be weak is not to sin.” He just wished he believed in them.

Nonetheless, the Angel seems satisfied with his response and graces him with a small smile. She stands suddenly, twirling around in bubbly joy and skips over to the hearth fire. 

John panics when the Angel sticks her hand into the flames. He’s about to rush over when the Angel shoots him a reassuring smile and plucks out a smaller piece of ember, not a mark on her hand. 

She motions John over and, without warning, crushes the ember and blows the glowing flakes at John. Instinct takes over and John flinches away, expecting scalding dust to leave their marks on his already-scarred skin. John sneezes when a few stray particles find foothold inside his nose, eliciting chuckles from the Angel that make John’s mind snap alert in surprise. 

The first thing John notices is the lack of pain, not just from the ember ashes. There is a distinct absence of the pain that had crawled through his veins when he woke. Then John feels the pleasant heat like he was being cradled by a million little suns, each radiating its own warmth where it lands on his frame. Finally, John feels joy, sheer unadulterated joy.

“Uriel taught me that trick.” The Angel says, laughter lingering in her voice. “Helps to ease physical pain and chase away sadness.”

“Uriel?” John asks and immediately berates his forwardness, which he blames on the drug-like happiness.

“My brother.” The Angel answers. “Archangel Uriel, wearing the halo of the sun with fire in his palms. One of the first gifts Father bestowed upon mankind.”

“Light and warmth.” John mutters in comprehension.

“You should see his wings, John!” The Angel exclaims, “Fiery red tips fading away into sunset yellow. Shining gold speckled into the vane and running through the quill.”

“I wish my wings are as beautiful.” The Angel adds with a sigh.

The one thing that John has learned from this day is that happiness is extremely efficient at crumbling his built-up walls of premeditated caution.

“You are, I mean, they are. I’m sure they are” John sputters and starts tripping over his own words in a rush to get everything out. “Just as beautiful, your wings that is.” He’s sure his face is beet red by now, enough to give Uriel’s wings a run for their money.

Before John ends up confessing his undying love for the Angel and thereby condemning himself to hell, the Angel saves him with a short and sweet “Thank you, John.”

“You’re welcome,” John replies, glad to end this line of conversation lest his head implodes. Then, because John is an idiot high on happiness-embers, he opens his mouth to address the Angel as she did him, “Angel…?” and realizes halfway through the uttered word how ridiculous that sounds, and his voice cracks, high-pitched.

Per course of that day, the Angel swoops in to save him from further embarrassment. 

“Helel.” She sings. “You can call me Helel.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Longer chapter this time 'round. Don't know when the next update will be but def not abandoning this plot bun bun :>

**Author's Note:**

> Don't know exactly what I'm doing, don't know exactly what this is, just know it's something...


End file.
